Stream of Consciousness Sunday- Are Poems a Better Cure Than Wine?

Yes, it is Sunday and I didn't even need to check the calendar. I can always tell because I hear the [thwack] of the big paper as it hits the door. Time again for Stream of Consciousness Sunday. The rules are simple! Set a timer for five minutes, write (but don't edit), publish, and link up here. This is what I have to say today even though I really wanted to say something completely different to begin with...

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I could spend these next five minutes wallowing or ranting. I want to. It would be super easy too. It has been the kind of weekend that’s filled with nothing but worsening news. Horrible.

And my sleeping buddy is out of town. And I wanted to relish it in solitude. And planned to eat a million things, and everything, bad for me. 

My covers. 

My remote. 

My ice cream.

Instead I am not sleeping well, fielding disturbing text messages, and never made it to the store to buy the bad stuff. It is after noon; I could turn to wine.

But I have this collection of poetry next to me. It is the first time I have ever read one. It somehow makes me feel lighter just holding it. Is it magic?

It is so lovely. My heart seems in a constant state of pitter-pattering flutter as my eyes sip the words. It is like a feast of fine chocolate. A word buffet. Of too many good things. And my spirits is soaring.

I am usually a very impulsive person. If I love something, I devour it. But I am using every ounce of restraint I have to eat this up slooooowly. Savor. Taste. 

Read each poem. 

Go back. 

Take more in. 

Feel it.

More.

If it weren’t for this book, these poems, I don’t know what I would have done this weekend. There isn’t any wine in the house. I didn't get to the store.

Which works better for you? Wine or poems?

RIP Joe

Some people lose their battle. Some are too young. Then some are left behind wondering what they could have done differently.

Rest in peace, "Joe".

Do You Like Reading Poetry?

Yes, sometimes. (I just answered the question myself.) I like poems individually, but I don't think I have ever really sat down and read an entire collection. I never thought I would enjoy that experience as much as I love, love, love reading novels or short story collections. That is until...

LOVE POEM #137

I will wake you up early
even though I know you like to stay throughout the credits.

I will leave pennies in your pockets,
postage stamps of superheroes
in between the pages of your books,
sugar packets on your kitchen counter.
I will Hansel and Gretel you home.

I talk through movies.
Even ones I have never seen before.

I will love you with too many commas,
but never any asterisks.

There will be more sweat than you are used to.
More skin.
More words than are necessary.

My hair in the shower drain,
my smell on your sweaters,
bobby pins all over the windows sills.

I make the best sandwiches you've ever tasted.
You'll be in charge of napkins.

I can't do a pull-up.
But I'm great at excuses.

I count broken umbrellas after every thunderstorm,
and I fall asleep repeating the words thank you.

I will wake you up early
with my heavy heartbeat.
You will say, Can't we just sleep in, and I will say,
No, trust me. You don't want to miss a thing.

                         No Matter the Wreckage
                         Poems by Sarah Kay

Then there's The First Poem in the Imaginary Book and Montauk and Hands!

Swoon!!!!! I chose to read No Matter the Wreckage to give this poetry thing a whirl because, after all, it IS National Poetry Month. I am in love.

Thank you, Rebecca from Book Riot, for this recommendation. I am almost halfway through, and my life has been changed. For the better because of it. I just may be a convert.

It's Monday, April 20th. What Are You Reading?

Remember last week when I told you that the previous week and weekend were awesome in terms of reading. I know better than to gloat!

These last seven days have been far, far, far less than productive reading-wise (Is this a word?). Life. Personal issues. Stuff. All things that disrupt concentration. At the very least, these things encroached on my reading time. That’s okay. It’s life.

What I read:

It did finish a collection of short stories called There’s Something I Want You to Do by Charles Baxter. Here’s the underlying premise: The stories are interrelated so we see several characters more than once. I like this. The book is in two parts. In the first part, each story uses a virtue as its theme ("Bravery," "Loyalty," "Chastity," "Charity," and “Forbearance”). The second part is devoted to vices ("Lust," "Sloth," "Avarice," "Gluttony," and "Vanity"). The characters do some great and noble things then turn around and do some things bordering on despicable (that’s maybe too strong a word). At the center of each story is a question, or request. There’s something I want you to do. Sometimes, it is stated as such, other times it is implied.

I really liked this book and I recommend it to anyone who likes short stories or would like to give them a try. I now want to read one of his novels called The Feast of Love.

What I am reading:

I have made a decent dent in the audio version of We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler even though I hardly have any drive time anymore. I guess that’s what the Step Mill is for, right? I will NOT  be telling you anything about this book. Trust me, it is fun and interesting. It surprised me! And it sounds so well written that I wish I was actually reading it instead of listening.

Last night I started Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris. I read To Rise Again at a Decent Hour and thought it was so funny and different that when I saw Then We Came… on the cheap at Open Books last week, I immediately thought “Destiny!!!”

That’s my last week. This week is shaping up to be busy, busy, busy. Aside from "life events", I will be celebrating World Book Night at Unabridged Bookstore at a BYOB (Bring Your Own Book(s) to donate) event sponsored, I think, by some local folks connected with Book Riot. 

I did not know until this morning that Friday, April 24th is some sort of 24-hour Read-a-Thon thingie! Happens twice a year. How perfect is it that my husband leaves for a golf trip that very morning? Score! (Sorry Honey!!! You know how much I love to read!)

It's Monday! What are you reading?

Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Do You Tell Fellow Writers About Typos?

How does Sunday come around so quickly? Here I am, again, writing stream of consciousness style and linking it up over at Fadra’s place. 

The rules are simple:

Write for five minutes.

Don’t edit.

Publish.

Here goes…

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I wish I could simply butt the heck out. Usually I am so, so, so good at it. Friday, I was not, and I am feeling a bit self-conscious. Maybe uneasy or uncomfortable are better words.

You see, I informed someone, a fellow blogger and acquaintance, of a typo in a post. I thought said writer would probably want to know because maybe the piece was written for something important. Or maybe not even important. Just because. And not to be a pill or anything. As much as I would want to know, I thought this person would want to know.

I even think I have had a writing/blogging conversation with this person, and we agreed that sometimes we can’t see a typo/mistake even though we have read something over and over and over. And sometimes we don’t have the time. Or sometimes maybe we don’t even care. But I do care. I know this person cares.

Oh well. What’s done is done. I can’t take my words back though I hope it was accepted in the spirit in which it was given. I only wanted to help. 

Because I thought you might want to know. 

Because I would want to know.

Do You Have a Fish Tank?

Can you not completely lose yourself in it? 

Gaze for hours.

I do.

When I look at it from the top, it appears so much smaller than its 90,000 gallons. Seems sparse since it is deep, and only some fish swim along the surface. Seems like it's the predators. And there's a whole social system within it as well.

Somewhat of an eavesdropper on their lives,
I can see this.
Everyone needs to behave, including me.

Some fish school. 

Angel Fish swim in pairs. 

Snappers seem to lead solitary lives.

Imagine a gigantic tank filled with life and color and textures. Then imagine slipping into its peacefulness. Some approach cautiously then flit off. Others nip my fingers anticipating food, or my flesh.

Five stingrays fight for my attention.
Suck my mask trying to kiss me.
Things brush past.

It is like playing in their secret world. 

Not mine. 

Intimate.

Like taking a Caribbean vacation. 

Without leaving. 

Soundless.

It's feeling like you are the luckiest person in the world. 

It's Monday! What Are You Reading?

It has been an awesome week/weekend for reading mostly because of one little book. Of course, I will tell you why.

I was talking with a friend on Saturday morning, which happened to be a gloriously gorgeous day here in the city. Chicago, that is. Swimming pools and movie stars... Oh wait, that’s Beverly Hills! We both expressed interest in epistolary books. Books in the form of letters. (To this day my hands down favorites are the Griffin and Sabine series by Nick Bantock. Have you read them?) And I am not sure how I found this little tome, or why I had never read it before because it is so totally me. 

Any way, I decided to go for a very long walk, probably 6 miles, to take in the sunshine and some solitude, choosing to stroll through the neighborhoods instead of along the lakefront. Almost gave up once at the furthest distance from home and hailed a cab. But at precisely that decision point, I saw a bookstore. Ahhhhhh! It beckoned me through its door. (It is here I will admit that this particular place was probably on my radar the entire time.) 

And success!!!!!! It is an old title, and if it hadn’t been a perpetual “staff pick”, it wouldn’t have been on the shelf. Have you read…

Check it out on Goodreads. For me, it was simply stunning.

In other book news, I finally finished…

It is primarily about a single guy, a wannabe writer in NYC, and the many iterations of his relationships. Kind of a Mars/Venus perspective, in a way, accentuating the differences split along gender lines. It's just not that simplistic, though, is it?

I had this to say on Goodreads: “I am still digesting this book, and wondering why I liked it so much to easily give it 4-stars. I think because it made me feel. Something. Even though that "something" wasn't completely positive.” 

So I did like it. But not all the time. I did think it was very well written. There was some interesting insight into the psyche of a young, single man and relationships. Some of it felt awfully familiar. While I wasn't crazy about him either, his character felt real to me. Was it because he reminded me of someone specifically? I don't think so, but I have seen plenty of those characteristics/traits in a lot of men just not so much wrapped up all into one. I never like generalizations and this felt a bit like that. Not all guys are like this. Not all women are like that. Or whatever, if that makes sense at all. What rang true was the protagonist's desire to do just so much talking. My husband is like that. He doesn't want to dissect and re-hash every little (or big) thing. For that matter, neither do I. If you read it, let me know what you think!

I am digging back into a book of shorts stories…

And will probably pick back up Lila by Marilynne Robinson…again! But maybe I should just go ahead and read Gilead, instead. What do you think?

Listening to...

It’s Monday! What are you reading?